


I Give You the Morning

by ragingrainbow



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Dreams, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, Love Bites, M/M, Morning Sex, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 09:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11756685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragingrainbow/pseuds/ragingrainbow
Summary: Mitch dreams of rain. The drops are soft and warm as they fall on his skin; they feel like kisses - covering his face, his neck, his chest, his arms.





	I Give You the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I did a call for kink suggestions for oneshots a couple of days ago, and several people suggested somnophilia. While this doesn't quite hit the mark for the kink, it was certainly inspired by this suggestion, so thanks to those who suggested it. <3 
> 
> Betad by Joce.
> 
> Title from [I Give You the Morning by Weeping Willows](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3jjiTL-ldGk) (actually inspired by [the Swedish version by Fred Åkerström](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tX2ccZ1Dmu0), which is so wonderfully soft, but I preferred having an English title).

Mitch dreams of rain. The drops are soft and warm as they fall on his skin; they feel like kisses - covering his face, his neck, his chest, his arms. Curiously, he’s not getting wet, despite standing in the middle of the street during a downpour. 

The wind is laughing - softly, quietly. He realizes that he’s naked, feels a puff of air brush the skin on his stomach. He’s no longer in the street, he’s laying in a meadow now, and it’s sunny. He wriggles as grass and flowers tickle his skin. 

He sighs softly as wind brushes over the head of his cock. He has a flash of awareness of how weird this dream is, but the thought is fleeting, because it feels _good_. The plants and wind keep up their caresses, soft and undemanding, and Mitch is all but melting into the ground, only distantly aware of his own arousal, of the way his hips are moving impatiently as noises spill unbidden from his lips. 

It starts to rain again. It’s still sunny - his skin is so warm. The drops still feel like kisses, concentrated on his face this time. 

The wind knows Mitch’s name - whispers it in his ear, its voice familiar and fond. He hums in response, and there’s the outline of a smile against his cheek - lips, not rain - and he tethers for a moment, stuck in his dream even as the waking world makes itself known. 

“Alright?” Scott asks, nose nudging Mitch’s cheek before he kisses the same spot. 

Despite Mitch’s countless assurances that Scott’s allowed - even when Mitch is mostly asleep - Scott always asks. It used to frustrate Mitch, but by now it’s reassuringly familiar, mingles with his sleepiness and arousal to let him drift on the edges of sleep. 

Mitch makes a noise that he knows Scott will take as assent; if the way he parts his legs invitingly isn’t enough. 

“Okay,” Scott says softly, pecking Mitch’s lips. “Not gonna make you talk.”

Mitch smiles - he’s sure in his half-asleep state he looks dopey - but he can’t help himself, and Scott just chuckles and kisses his forehead so it’s alright. 

Mitch gasps as Scott’s warm, slick fingers nudge his hole. The sensation is always different like this - his body offers little resistance, and the pressure of penetration feels somehow distant, barely registering at the fringes of his consciousness. 

Scott likes to take his time opening Mitch up; Mitch is usually more impatient, but like this everything feels less urgent, and he lets himself relax into the bed, making no effort at all at taking control. He’s warm and sleepy and horny and _safe_. Scott’s taking care of him.

Mitch’s drifted back towards sleep, rather than making any effort to wake up, by the time Scott’s fingers disappear. He makes a soft noise of protest at the loss, but Scott kisses it away, framing Mitch’s face with his hands. They smell like lube and Mitch’s own musk and Mitch would find it disgusting if he wasn’t so relaxed. 

Mitch blinks his eyes partly open so he can see Scott - beautiful, as always, soft and sleep-mussed, wrapped in the half-light of early morning. Scott smiles, and Mitch’s heart lurches in spite of his sleepiness. He closes his eyes again when Scott leans down to kiss his eyelids. 

“Just relax, I’ve got you,” Scott murmurs, rubbing his thumbs - still slick with lube - along Mitch’s cheekbones. 

Scott sinks in slowly - early on they had instances of him accidentally jolting Mitch to full wakefulness, but by now he knows what Mitch can take. Mitch gasps as Scott bottoms out; his spine tingling with pleasure, pooling at the nape of his neck. He shudders when Scott starts fucking him with slow, lazy thrusts. 

It’s almost trippy, being fucked while his brain is still sleep-addled. It all sort of mingles together in slow bursts of pleasure - the way Scott slides in and out of him, each time the head of Scott’s cock brushes his prostate, the puffs of hot air against his face as Scott breathes above him. 

“Yeah, that’s it, just take it baby,” Scott says, punctuating his words by putting a little more force behind his thrusts; just enough to nudge Mitch towards wakefulness. 

Mitch cocks his head to the side, encouraging Scott to place a trail of kisses along the bottom of his jaw and down his throat to Mitch’s collarbone, where he stops to suck in a bruise opposite Mitch’s tattoo. The flash of pain is enough to wake Mitch up further even as he resists; keeps his eyes closed and his body pliant. 

Mitch isn’t ready for it to end when Scott’s hand wraps around his cock, wishes he could stay like this forever, just drifting as Scott’s cock fills him and Scott’s lips mark his skin. But he knows it can’t last, knows Scott’s holding back for him, knows Scott needs to be reassured that Mitch is with him despite his minimal responses. 

He lets each stroke of Scott’s hand pull him just a tiny bit further towards full awareness, until his hips start meeting Scott’s thrusts, until he can blink his eyes open as he writhes beneath Scott. 

“ _Scott_ ,” he whimpers, voice rough with a mix of sleep and arousal. 

Scott kisses him, swallows Mitch’s moans as he comes. Scott’s noises mingle with it moments later, spill into Mitch’s mouth, and Mitch takes them like he takes everything else Scott gives him. 

Mitch floats back towards sleep in the aftermath; as Scott gently wipes him off before snuggling close, his head resting on Mitch’s shoulder. 

Mitch entwines their fingers under the covers, as Scott whispers to him that they still have a couple of hours to sleep. 

Mitch dreams of the meadow again, but this time Scott is there too, holding Mitch’s hand tight as they are cradled by the gentle rays of the sun.


End file.
